"Red" at Gremlin Theatre

'Tis the season for red. No, not because February is American Heart Month and Valentine's Day, but because this season there have been several productions of the 2010 Tony-winning play Red, the first since the regional premiere at Park Square Theatre some 13 years ago. I love a two-hander, i.e., two people sitting in a room talking, and Red is a most excellent example of the form. So even though I saw Lakeshore Players Theatre's wonderfully intimate and intense production just a few months ago, I was more than happy to spend a little more time with Russian-American abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko and his (fictional) assistant via the talented cast and design team at Gremlin Theatre. Since first seeing Red in 2012, I have been lucky enough to see several Rothko paintings in person in museums in New York and/or Chicago; in fact I seek them out whenever I'm at a museum that houses modern art. At first glance, they're simple blocks of color, usually dark rich reds. But when you look deeper, they're so layered and endlessly mesmerizing. So is this play - just a simple two-hander, but so layered in the way it explores the life of an artist and the meaning of art, and in a broader sense ideas of legacy, grief, friendship, purpose.* This production features two fantastic performances, emotionally true direction, and gorgeously messy design. See Red now through March 1 at Gremlin Theatre in Vandalia Tower, where you can also enjoy a fun, delicious, and convenient dinner-and-a-show pairing at Lake Monster Brewing / OG ZaZa Pizza / King Coil Spirits, or SK Coffee before a Sunday matinee.

"Peter and Alice" by Candid Theatre Company at Fallout Arts Initiative

Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland are two of the most iconic characters in children's literature. Both were inspired by real people, Peter Llewelyn Davis and Alice Liddell, who were children befriended by the authors J.M. Barrie and Lewis Carroll. One would think they'd have a lot in common, and a lot to talk about, both living their lives under the shadow of this iconic image of childhood. History tells us they actually did meet, and playwright John Logan imagines what their conversation was like in the play Peter and Alice. Reality, memories, and imagination all mix together to tell a moving story of the joy and pain of growing up. Candid Theatre Company's wonderful and intimate production of Peter and Alice is playing at Fallout Arts Initiative in South Minneapolis through March 4.

"Hauptmann" by Candid Theater Company at the People's Center Theater

The kidnapping of the son of famed aviator Charles Lindbergh in 1932 was headline news across the country and caused a media sensation. Eighty years later, the "crime of the century" is still a fascinating story and a bit of an unsolved mystery. Last year the History Theatre produced a fantastic musical Baby Case about the kidnapping, investigation, and media frenzy. Playwright and screenwriter John Logan (see also the multi-Tony-winner Red) wrote a play about it from the point of view of the man accused, convicted, and executed for the crime, Bruno Richard Hauptmann. Candid Theater Company's current production presents a fascinating and compelling drama with the barest of sets and costumes and a cast full of new young talent.

The focus of Hauptmann is not Mr. and Mrs. Lindbergh, whose child was stolen and murdered, but, as the title suggests, Hauptmann himself. He tells his story directly to the audience from his prison cell where he's awaiting execution. He narrates his story from his arrest two years after the crime, through the brutal interrogations, through the trial with resources and public opinion in the Lindberghs' favor, to his almost predetermined conviction. He never wavers in his insistence of his innocence, as the real Hauptmann never did. Someone needed to pay for the "crime of the century" to put the watchful nation at ease, and Hauptmann did. The possession of some of the ransom money, which he says he got from a friend, handwriting experts who testified to the similarity between his writing and the ransom notes, and wood experts who insisted that the wood from the ladder found at the scene of the crime matched wood in his attic was enough to convict him. History is undecided about whether or not Hauptmann was guilty of the crime, but this play leaves no doubt that he was the innocent victim of circumstance and the public and law enforcement's desperate need for a conviction.

Director Justin Kirkeberg tells the story efficiently with simple costumes, minimal sets (just a cot and a few chairs), and his seven-person cast, several of whom are new to the Twin Cities theater scene, with no a weak link among them. Aaron Henry plays the title character and rarely, if ever, leaves the stage as he guides the audience through the story. His Hauptmann is a sympathetic man, an average Joe caught up in a whirlwind, but who eventually shows his anger and frustration that no one believes him. The rest of the cast all play multiple characters, from nameless police and guards to the other personalities in the story. Jonathon Dull's Lindbergh is a strong and elegant man, desperate to find answers for his wife. As Mrs. Lindbergh, Kate Zehr is the picture of a grieving mother. Kevin Fanshaw plays four different witnesses, never getting up from the witness chair but managing to create four distinct personalities in a short period of time. Matt Saxe is the cruelly efficient prosecuting attorney, relentlessly badgering Hauptmann until he gets the answers he wants. Rounding out the cast is Elohim Peña as multiple characters including the judge, with a nice array of accents.

The American public has always been obsessed with true crime stories, and the Lindbergh baby kidnapping is one of its earliest obsessions. Hauptmann shows us the other side of the story, the possibly innocent man who was sacrificed to create a satisfying end to the story. Candid Theater Company's well done production of John Logan's compelling story continues through November 23 at the People's Center Theater on the U of M's West Bank campus (discount tickets available on Goldstar).


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Red" at Park Square Theatre

Red is my kind of play. More about character and ideas than plot or action, it's a feast for the ears and the mind. And the eye, with replicas of the main character's (Russian-American abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko) murals on display on the stage. It's the kind of play that makes me want to run home and research the subject to learn more about it, and hopefully one day visit a museum where Rothko's work is displayed. I must admit, I've never heard of him before; I don't know much about art. Which is another thing this play makes me wish - that I had taken more than just that one art class in college. This play is about art, expression, and creation, but it's also about the more global themes of loss, death, and relationships. It's just a fantastic play (written by John Logan, who's written screenplays for several movies including Gladiator and Hugo). The Tony voters agree with me; Red won six Tonys in 2010, including best play. But I have a hard time imagining that it was any better than the production currently playing at Park Square Theatre. It's a definite must-see.

Red takes place in the late 1950s, when Rothko was painting a series of murals on commission for the Four Seasons restaurant in New York's brand new Seagram Building (where people like Don Draper would dine). In this fictionalized account, Rothko hires an assistant named Ken. Ken is also an artist, although Rothko never treats him as such. He's an employee, there to do what he's told and not offer an opinion. Their relationship develops over time as they work together from nine to five, five days a week. Ken begins to challenge Rothko about his work, his ideas, and his lifestyle. Rothko eventually decides to turn down the commission, return the cash advance, and keep the paintings (they now hang in the Tate Modern in London, the Kawamura Memorial Museum in Japan, and the National Gallery in DC). He releases Ken do his own work and live his own life, while Rothko continues his solitary pursuit of art.

I can't say enough about this cast. These are two intense, deep, layered characters, and J.C. Cutler (Rothko) and Steven Lee Johnson (Ken) bring out all of those layers. They also have a great chemistry together as teacher/student, employer/employee, friends, and adversaries. I've seen J.C. several times and he's always great, but this is truly a standout performance. Steven is a still a student in the U of M/Guthrie BFA program, but he's already a fantastic actor. He was wonderful in Theater Latte Da's Beautiful Thing this spring, and very much holds his own against the veteran actor in this production.

The Park Square Theatre stage has been converted into a well lived-in and worked-in artist's studio, with paints and canvases tucked in every corner (the set was designed by Lance Brockman, with scenic assistant Anne Henly painting the Rothko replicas and instructing the actors in the act of painting). The characters spend the first two scenes in this one-act play talking about painting and mixing paint, building the tension so that you're just itching to see that paint hit the canvas. And when it does, it's a beautiful release. Classical music (and a bit of "modern" jazz) provide the soundtrack, seemingly coming from a record player in the corner, and act as another character in the play. Directed by Park Square's Artistic Director Richard Cook, this play is an almost visceral experience, with art, music, ideas, words, appealing to all of the senses.

I don't often tell you what to see, preferring to share my thoughts and let you decide if it interests you. But I'm telling you, go see this play. One of the best new plays, two amazing performances, lofty ideas, intense emotions, an interesting set filled with huge canvases, what more can you ask for? At a relatively brief 90 minutes with no intermission, it's well worth your time. Here are a few of the paintings you'll see on stage. Photos do not do them justice. Nor, I assume, do the replicas. Hopefully one day I'll see them in person, yet another example of something I first experienced at the theater.

from Rothko's Seagram Murals

from Rothko's Seagram Murals